Simpatico: Solo Bike’s Impeccable Norton Atlas Café Racer

The Norton Atlas has at all times been considered one of my endlessly dream bikes. This story began fairly a very long time in the past, with the aborted buy try at my first one.

After regrettably promoting my Commando, I had gone a few 12 months and a half and not using a bike. I had at all times lusted over proudly owning a featherbed Norton particular, constructed up as a period-correct café racer. At some point my expensive buddy and longtime bike mentor, Bib, referred to as me to say that he’d wish to promote me an Atlas particular that he had owned for some 20 years.

A few of you could know of Bib. Invoice ‘Bib’ Bibbiani had cemented himself passionately within the Norton group as a rider, collector, and builder of iconic British iron, serving because the fearless chief of the famed Southern California Norton Homeowners Membership.

We had talked about this specific bike too many occasions to recollect, drooling about it throughout each go to to his home—its Dunstall seat and scorching rod motor held in very excessive regard by us each. I used to be shocked that he’d be prepared to promote it to me. However it solely took two seconds for me to proclaim that I’d take it, gathering up each penny I might muster, reserving a flight to California. Unable to include myself, I anxiously waited to take possession of it, agreeing that I’d meet Bib at his home on Saturday morning.

After touchdown in L.A. early Friday, I spent the day with my greatest buddy, speaking his ear off in regards to the bike. I are likely to get carried away once I focus on this stuff. Espresso and donuts have been our ritual, and as we sat on the typical institution, I referred to as Bib to triple-confirm that we have been all set for the next day. His response was painful: “I can’t promote it. I cleaned the carbs and gave it a once-over as I ready it for you, however after taking it for a journey, I made a decision I simply couldn’t let it go.”

I’m certain there was a clumsy pause on that decision as I looked for an acceptable response. I had simply scraped collectively each bit of cash I might discover and flown midway throughout the nation. However I couldn’t be mad; I revered it and would have felt the identical manner. “So the place can we go from right here?” I puzzled. “Come up anyway,” Bib stated. “I’ve bought an concept.”

Saturday morning got here and I headed to Bib’s with a mixture of uncertainty and pleasure. There was no bike to purchase that day, however Bib instructed me he’d promote me a unique bike, a challenge that maybe we’d construct collectively. I had beforehand mentioned with him my want to construct a featherbed Norton—a real machine constructed with actual and unique elements, similar to it might have been accomplished when these bikes have been modern.

Bib had at all times stated that he’d by no means do such a factor; his desire was to construct bikes as he noticed match after which promote them. He had no want to take care of another person’s opinion and all of the complications that got here with it. However he was going to make an exception on this case, doubtless as a result of we had identified one another for years and he’d change into kind of a father determine to me. I might additionally see he felt dangerous for going again on the deal we had already struck.

The journey started with Bib dragging out one other Atlas he had tucked away. A pessimist by nature, I left his place feeling skeptical, figuring out what it takes to rebuild considered one of these previous bikes. There’d be a protracted street forward, taking time, cash, endurance, and arduous work from each of us to finish. However I benefit from the course of and at all times have, so I knew that with the small assortment of elements that I had already gathered and Bib’s expertise, we might construct a machine that we’d each be pleased with.

A number of months later I returned to Bib’s to see the Atlas that he had allotted to me. It sat with the original-paint body, a stable core of a motor and magneto, and that was just about it; there was no entrance finish, no tank, no wheels, no carbs, no seat, no fenders. You get the concept. It was so removed from the dream bike that I had in my thoughts. I handed him an envelope stuffed with my hard-earned cash to offer it the inexperienced gentle. After all, he refused to rely it; we had accomplished this earlier than, we have been mates, virtually household, and I’d by no means brief him a greenback and he’d by no means have a second thought that I’d. I sweetened the take care of a few instances of his favourite beer.

On cloud 9, we shook palms and parted methods. The plan was for every of us to work on sure facets of the bike, hundreds of miles aside. We’d get collectively at particular phases and apply our progress. My thoughts was racing with anticipation as I drove away together with his stunning California bungalow and small shed of Norton treasures within the rear-view mirror.

As I cleared the on-ramp onto the freeway, my cellphone rang. It was my mom, calling to inform me that my grandfather had simply handed away. He suffered from Alzheimer’s for a few years, and dropping him was devastating. We have been shut, and I’ve by no means had a lot respect and admiration for an additional individual in my complete life. Besides perhaps Bib. The 2 got here collectively at that second—Bib reminding me of my grandfather; the importance of each of them to me had been strengthened. The shut proximity of each occasions added a layer of significance to what I used to be about to construct.

Over the course of the subsequent 14 months, Bib and I set to work. We bickered alongside the way in which as to what was proper and what was improper, him profitable almost all of the arguments. He was set in his methods and had many years of expertise that I needed to respect.

Moreover, I knew that it doesn’t matter what we constructed, I’d doubtless evolve it as soon as it was ‘completed’ in an effort to get what I actually needed. Bib appreciated to set most of his bikes up with Mikuni carburetors, which I hate. He needed the first to be chrome, which I hate. He needed to run an 18″ rear wheel, which I hate. He needed to make use of brief reverse-cone megaphones, which I, nicely, dislike. Plenty of little issues like that, coupled with a couple of modifications primarily based on elements that we both might or couldn’t discover on the time, decided the end result of the bike’s first iteration.

After simply over a 12 months of blood, sweat and tears, the day had come for me to take full-time possession of its care. On my manner, my buddy’s truck broke down. I referred to as Bib. He instructed me to not fear, he’d ship it to me. As we backed it down the ramp of his trusty pickup, I used to be nervous in regards to the impending second of fact: kicking it and using off in entrance of your mentor. However all went nicely, and that first journey was the purest of satisfaction. We had accomplished it. We had conspired to construct my dream bike, and on the identical time, rescued one other discarded machine.

I’ll always remember the final contact. Bib handed me the tank badges, saving their placement for me alone. It was a considerate gesture that marked the passing of this machine from him to me—much more necessary and vital than the official signing over of the title. We spent hours speaking, clearly he didn’t need to depart. It was troublesome for him to be accomplished with it. After a while, we shook palms and I feel I might need even given him a hug. It was that kind of second.

These pictures present the bike because it sits at the moment, some ten years later, lastly accomplished in my eyes. It’s developed to be what I’d at all times held in my desires: an trustworthy machine, not overly restored, and positively no trailer queen.

We rebuilt and restored every thing that wanted to be redone, however didn’t do something that wasn’t vital. It’s half survivor, half revival. It’s a matching-numbers machine that runs nearly as good because it appears and at present has virtually 16,000 miles on the clock. I journey, get pleasure from and preserve it because it was meant for use by its maker. It has a couple of tasteful upgrades to make it protected and dependable, however nothing that detracts from its originality.

After all, no story can be good and not using a few bumps within the street—just like the time I blew up the motor when a valve broke in half and introduced every thing to an abrupt cease, or my gentle crash at about 35 mph. I suppose these are the sorts of issues that both destroy or strengthen your love for one thing.

I might by no means purchase such a narrative or such a machine—it needed to be constructed. Sadly, Bib handed away a couple of years in the past, and by no means bought to see it fairly like this. I do know he’d be pleased with it, and pleased with what we did collectively. I do know I certain am.

Godspeed Bib…

This text first appeared in difficulty 025 of Iron & Air Journal, and is reproduced right here beneath license | Phrases by Jeff Dickson | Pictures by Rob Collins |  Solo Bike Works Instagram